Architecture Q +A: Ego and Enslavement

Strolling through the rows of desks is like perusing the kitchenware aisles of Target.

I spy a microwave, an espresso maker, a mini-fridge adequately stocked with Red Bull (a few of which I’ve stolen in passing; deal with it) and leftover Ramen, and an abundance of silverware.

All of these items are within reach of most any Virginia Tech architecture student eternally confined to Cowgill Hall or buried under the pyramids of Burchard Hall. They've got all means of survival save a mattress, although it's not unusual to spot fetal balls tucked in by swivel chairs.

It’s likely you know – or maybe more accurately, knew – an architecture student or even “live with one.”

Why quotations?

Because you probably question why architects even contribute to the rent. They drop multiple Benjamins to make phantom a.m. visits just long enough to change shirts and swipe deodorant; all the while you’re comatose under your comforter. Only the faint scent of spray fixative and a dirty spoon hint at their stealth.

You often speak of them retrospectively, recounting their presence during the fun times of freshman year. You might have even forgotten their hair color, but don’t feel ashamed. They’ve since become nocturnal; lack of sun exposure has presumably darkened it.

Still, (socially crippling) sacrifices must be made to gain the stellar reputation the architecture students maintain. Virginia Tech’s School of Architecture + Design has upheld a national top 10 undergraduate architecture ranking for the past five years, including a number one slot in 2008, according to the Design Futures Council and journal DesignIntelligence.

I’ve found that a mysterious aura surrounds the activities of this unseen culture. What do students do in this place called studio? Or rather, Studio. It warrants a proper noun since they regard it like a deity.

In an attempt to raise the veil, I decided to conduct an interview with an unnamed (unreal) architecture student.*

Below is a selection of questions and answers from that session.

Ryan: Hey, thanks for taking the time to sit down with me.
Archi: (silence)

R: HEY.
A: (eyes flutter open) Oh. Hey.

R: I said thanks for meeting with me. I’m sure you have a busy Monday.
A: It’s Monday?

R: So I guess you didn’t get much sleep last night – or ever, for that matter?
A: Meh. I almost got 90 minutes. That’s not bad.

R: Wow. Are you familiar with REM?
A: Rem Koolhass? Of course.

R: I’ll assume that’s an architect, and no. I’m talking about sleep cycles and your general health. … Nevermind.
A: Whatever. S, M, L, XL is 1,376 pages of theoretical genius.

R: That sounds too heavy for a bookshelf, nonetheless my lap. Maybe it could prop up your pillow while you slept more.
A: (scoff)

R: Anyway, what kept you up all night?
A: I was working on a parti model.

R: Um. What is a parti model?
A: It describes the concept of my project.

R: Can I see it?
A: (reaches) Yeah, but I’m not sure you’ll get it.

R: That’s just seven pieces of cardboard glued together at angles. And it fits in the palm of your hand. You lost sleep over a second grade craft?
A: Is it just seven pieces of cardboard?

R: So basically, I can’t deduce anything about your project unless you tell me?
A: I mean, I guess not. Even though it’s so obvious.

R: Right. I'm an imbecile. That leads me to something else. A common perception of architecture students is that they are a bit pretentious, considering themselves above other majors. How do you feel about that?
A: I bet they don’t even know what pretentious means.

R: Uncontested, then.
A: Contest? Do you know about a competition I could do?!

R: What? No. Moving on. When spending eons in Studio, what keeps you going?
A: Well, I’m definitely in the toxic range of caffeine consumption. (flips espresso switch on) Also, my headphones are always stuck to my ears.

R: Oh, cool. What kind of music do you listen to?
A: It’s got to be upbeat or I fall asleep, which is unacceptable. Girl Talk has been on a loop lately.

R: Yeah, Girl Talk is solid. He recently came to Tech. The show was awesome. Did you go?
A: I had a pin-up the next day. So, no.

R: Man, that’s untimely. What were you working on?
A: I was knee-deep in graphite, shading a rendering of my building.

R: So a little bit like grown-up finger painting?
A: (points to drawing) No. I was giving it depth and realism.

R: Actually, that does look really sweet. You should design my future house.
A: … If I ever get to design anything like that in the real world.

R: Interesting. So you’re headstrong about architecture in school, but you see the future as a hopeless abyss?
A: So many clients are just close-minded and dense. Who wants a pitched roof?

R: Well, they do pay the bills. Compromise is sort of inherent in your field, isn’t it?
A: (arms crossed) They don’t know what design is.

R: A bit stubborn with your creations, eh? Sounds like you should have pursued painting or some other venture.
A: Venturi? I’d totally work for him.

R: (sigh)

* Coincidentally, I had a stint in the school; therefore my current architecture friends might now be former.